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“Not what I signed up for.” The robber stalked past me again, nudging Nina with his foot. Nina didn’t make a sound, keeping her head on the floor.
I peeked up. The robber had a hairy mole on his right cheek near his earlobe. That could be used to identify him if he somehow got away. What else could I see? Work boots stained with paint. Frayed jeans. He was sweating profusely despite the air conditioning going full blast in the store. Nerves? Drugs? Hard to tell.
The store’s phone rang, sounding loud in the tense atmosphere. No one moved to answer it. After several rings, the machine picked up. When the store’s message ended, a calm, firm voice spoke into the machine. “This is Lieutenant Jerod Schneid with the Springwell PD. Can you pick up the phone, please? We’d like to talk and find a peaceful solution to this situation.”
“Like hell I will,” the robber shouted at the phone, although the officer couldn’t hear him. He stalked around the store, his movements erratic and his eyes wild. “Damn police, trying to trap me. Sons of bitches aren’t getting away with that.” He tapped the gun to his forehead, continuing to mumble to himself.
I could only catch snatches of more swear words. At that moment, Jenna shifted her leg, catching the robber’s attention. He stalked toward her and held the gun to her skull. I pressed my lips together to keep from crying out.
“I told you not to move,” he spat. A bead of sweat dripped from his nose, landing on Jenna’s shoulder. She didn’t budge. Her face, turned toward me, was scrunched in fear, her eyes squeezed shut. After a minute, the robber moved away, walking between the display cases but cautiously avoiding the windows.
How much longer could this go on? I needed to do something to end it. I felt responsible for everyone in the room, but having Austin there was truly terrifying. So far, he hadn’t seemed to realize the danger of the situation, but what if that changed? The robber’s behavior was so erratic. I didn’t even want to guess how he might respond to a crying baby. I’d die before I’d let him lay a hand on my child…but then Austin would be left with no parent. Somehow, in some way, I needed to get this man out of my store, and as soon as possible.
The robber strode past me again, almost stepping on Austin’s outstretched hand, which still clutched the toy tractor. He was spinning the tires, focused on their movement. Thank goodness the toy was holding his attention—but his favorite thing to do was drive his tractor around on the floor, and that wasn’t an option. Not right now. While the robber’s back was turned, I reached for Austin’s hand, easing it back. When Austin opened his mouth to speak, I quickly shook my head, signaling for his silence. I’d never been so grateful for a compliant child. He let me shift his position while I smiled at him, trying to convey that everything was okay—no matter how untrue that was.
The robber prowled past again, still muttering but seeming to ignore us for now. Austin chose that moment to glance toward Nina on his other side before resting his chin on the carpet and beginning to trace its pattern. Nina smiled as well, and without words, we both scooted a tiny bit closer to Austin. He seemed content for the moment, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I moved my head a fraction of an inch to better see my employees. A soft sob reached me. Michelle, my junior salesperson, was hunkered down in front of a smashed case that had held wedding bands and engagement rings. Michelle was young, just twenty-two, with an infant daughter at home. I silently willed her to be silent, but another, louder sob rippled through the air. It caught the robber’s attention. He pivoted on one heel and strode toward Michelle. It was all I could do to remain still. I wanted to run to Michelle and protect her, but I couldn’t leave Austin.
My body tensed as the robber stood over Michelle, putting his booted foot into her side. “Shut up. I don’t want to listen to your crying, you crazy b?—”
The phone rang again. He looked around, his eyes wide and terrible. He clutched his hands to his ears, once again holding the gun against his own head before he strode across the room to the phone. He picked up the cordless unit and slammed it against a display case hard enough to shatter the glass and send chunks of the phone flying through the air.
Absolute silence fell again as the robber stood amid the debris, staring at a corner of the store as though mesmerized.
“Cameras,” he barked suddenly. “Where the hell are your monitors?”
“Behind the cashier’s desk in the corner.” I didn’t hesitate to respond. It might be a way of getting the man out of the store and ending the hostage situation.
He looked toward the desk where all transactions were completed. A screen that flipped through the various cameras was mounted under the desktop. Another monitor was in my office, but I wasn’t going to bring that up, not when it might result in me being trapped in there alone with him. And he’d probably refuse to leave the showroom and the other hostages.
“You,” he shouted at me, gesturing with the gun. “Get up and show me.”
With one last touch to my son’s arm, I got to my feet, keeping my hands clear of my body to indicate I meant no harm. He pointed me to the desk. I walked cautiously to it, feeling glass crunch under my feet.
“Down here,” I said, pointing to the monitor that was designed to be seen by someone seated.
“Take two steps back,” he told me before going around the desk to view the screen. He focused on it, but every few seconds his eyes swept the room, giving me no time to take action. I reviewed my childhood martial arts training, but decided against putting it into action. I was too rusty to feel confident that I could strike him before he could put the gun to use. And making any kind of move put the others at risk. My only hope was to outthink him.
“Alley out back?” he demanded of me.
“Yes, a narrow one.” One of the cameras was always focused on the alley and the store’s back door.
“Nobody out there,” he muttered.
That was a surprise. The police force wasn’t huge, but surely they had enough people to cover all the exits. Would they really leave the back unguarded? Or maybe there were police officers out there, staying out of sight.
“I want you to let me out that entrance.” When I nodded my agreement, he raised his voice. “The rest of you—don’t move, or I’ll kill her.” He shoved the gun against my stomach as he spoke, to reinforce his point. “And don’t you try to pull anything either,” he threatened.
“I’ll help you leave,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could while my head spun with ideas. The new security system included a mantrap on the back door. To use that exit, a code had to be entered in a keypad. The glass door would open, admitting one person at a time. Once the glass door closed, another code was needed to open the steel door to the outside. If I could get him trapped in the space between the doors, he’d be stuck, and the police could capture him.
He snatched up the bag of stolen goods he’d dropped earlier and gave me another push with the gun. “Let’s go.”
I walked ahead of him out of the showroom, past the office and jewelry repair area, to the back of the store.
“Are you trying to trick me?” he asked when he saw the mantrap.
“It’s a security feature to make sure employees aren’t stealing,” I lied. “I’ll help you operate it. One person at a time can go through the first door. You put a code in here,” I pointed to the keypad next to the glass door, “and then you can get into that area. This door will close, and you’ll need a different code to open the exterior door.”
